Haunted - Sunny Wolfe Page 0,13

up because I knew my spare key was at the bottom of Phoebe’s huge ass purse, and she would be pissed if she had to go through all the shit she had in there.

When I stood, I wobbled on my feet. Maybe four glasses of wine was not such a good idea? I opened the door and saw Phoebe and Eve.

“Hey, this is a pity party of one! Who the hell invited you?” I slurred my words and went to sit on the couch. My ribs still hurt but the pain meds helped a little.

“We invited ourselves. What kind of friends would we be if we couldn’t pity you?” She smiled.

I looked at her but didn’t smile in return.

“What’s wrong?”

I knew Phoebe was asking a rhetorical question, but I still just stared.

“Where to start? I was raped. The love of my life is on tour screwing young groupies. Joey is not doing well in school. I have an ex-husband now. I have a black hair growing out of my chin. Bloody hell…shall I go on? Oh, I think the real question is what is right!”

“Stop thinking about every negative thing in your life!” Phoebe sternly pointed to me as though I didn’t know to whom the fuck she was talking.

“Well…give Beth something to sing about!” I sang out to her.

“Oh hell…she watched the Buffy musical again, and this time she has been drinking.” Phoebe turned to Eve.

“Screw you, Joss Whedon is bloody brilliant.” I held up my wine glass in a toast.

“How can you tell?” Eve asked Phoebe.

“She’s speaking with a British accent,” Phoebe stated as though it was the clearest answer in the world.

Eve had no fucking idea. “What?” she asked.

“Eve, watch some fucking TV. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, have you ever watched TV in your life?” Phoebe asked. “Anyway in the Buffy musical, Spike and Giles were both British, and she loves that stupid musical. So now you’re caught up with the program?”

“Program, like a TV program?”

“Eve, you do realize it’s the twenty-first century and there is this really cool little box you can buy that has people living in it. We call it a TV!”

Eve frowned. “Okay, bitch of mine, why don’t you pick up a book more than twice a year, yeah?”

“Damn it, you two stop fighting. I’m having a pity party, not some WWE smack down,” I yelled.

“I will be the bigger person.” Eve stuck out her tongue at Phoebe. “Beth, there was a package for you on your front door.”

“Put it on the table,” I mumbled.

“Open it. Maybe it will be something cool.” Phoebe handed it to me with a pair of scissors that she grabbed out of a cup in the kitchen.

I opened it and my mind went blank. How? Why?

“What is it?” Phoebe asked while I was pulling out the item.

“It’s a stuffed monkey.”

“Oh, that is so cute.” Eve reached for it, but I held it to my chest like a treasure.

Eve looked in the box and read the card out loud: “Everybody wants a monkey.”

“Who sent this?” Phoebe looked at the box.

“Roman,” I deadpanned.

“Why would he send you this? I thought you broke up with him.” Phoebe looked at me.

“I did.” I mumbled out.

Was he thinking of me? Did he see it on the road and it reminded him of our first connection? Oh my God, what did this mean?

I woke up the next day in the bed. I was so fucking tired. Soon, I would start feeling like myself again. I thought I was starting to deal with the Jason thing a little at a time. That’s all I could deal with. A little at a time.

I dreamed last night about Roman. I dreamed he was screwing some girl backstage at a concert. I walked in on them, and he looked at me and said, “What did you expect?” So I walked out and went to buy doughnuts. Dreams... Why did Roman send me the monkey? I was doing fine. Well, fine with the break up until he sent it to me. What did it mean? Did he still want me?

I turned over in the bed and reached for the monkey.

Yep…I slept with it.

I reached and there was a porcelain doll with blue hair in my bed instead of the monkey. I screamed. I jumped out of the bed and fell on the floor. I scooted my back up against the wall. Oh fuck! I started rocking back and forth. Jason was dead, right? Roman killed him. I crawled out